


In the Absence

by Jane St Clair (3jane)



Category: Marvel, X-Force (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-07
Updated: 2011-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-22 08:56:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/236329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3jane/pseuds/Jane%20St%20Clair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Domino does bed checks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Absence

In the absence of a vision there are nightmares  
And in the absence of compassion there is cancer  
     - Bruce Cockburn, "Night Train"

*****

She thinks, sometimes, that they set a bad example for the kids.  Not  
in combat, obviously.  Every single one of them is going to survive  
whatever they get thrown into because she and Nate've put in the hours  
with them.  But about sex, definitely.  If only because, on a  
fundamental level, kids learn about sex from their parents.  Even if  
you skip the birds-and-the-bees talk (and frankly she's never been  
sure what exactly insects had to do with it, except in an extremely  
creepy James Joyce way), the little bastards watch you.  And pick up  
on those messy little things like how you treat your partner, and how  
far you let things go in public, and whether, really, you think sex is  
healthy or dirty.

Having her and Nate as role models is going to set the kids back by  
years.  She hates the "den-mother" thing, but she's well aware that  
she's only one bad dream away from being 'momma' while somebody sobs  
their heart out on her shoulder.

Tabitha, tonight.  She was up patrolling at two and heard her crying.    
Didn't even hesitate, just walked in and sat on the foot of the bed  
and braced herself for the inevitable body hitting hers.  Rocked her  
until she stopped crying and went back to sleep.  A long time.  During  
which she got to think about the kind of example they set.  Whether  
Tab would be happier if Sam weren't so completely Nathan's.  

What does one learned from Dom and Nate about sex?

One learns that sex is dirty, and complicated, and dangerous.  That  
anyone who loves you will eventually tie you up in knots, or die.    
That the proper way to deal with your partner is to fight loudly,  
bicker constantly, and sleep apart most of the time.  It doesn't help  
that she and Nate tend to argue publically and make up telepathically.    
Maybe it's time for her to wander off for a while, or to send the kids  
to Scott-and-Jean for happy-family therapy.

Tabitha does, eventually, go back to sleep, curled around Domino but  
not tightly enough to keep her from getting loose.  In the morning,  
she's going to have to drag Tab into the office and explain some  
things to her about not making yourself miserable.

This shouldn't have to be an 'American Beauty' moment, but it probably  
will be.  Look closer.  Nate and Dom have been driving each other  
crazy for -- fuck it, is it really? -- twenty years because even they  
(occasionally) have mercy.  And maybe more because they have very few  
illusions.  So fight with Sam and make up with him or break up, and  
either way stop expecting him to repair the universe for you.

Cynical thoughts, even for her.  She's tired -- exhausted, if she's  
honest -- and her angry-at-the-universe thought process is mostly a  
product of that.  She's tempted not to go back to bed at all, instead  
maybe find Nate and kick him until he shoves over enough to make room  
for her.  Listen to his heart beat and his overactive brain mutter at  
the back of her mind.

So.  Upstairs, downstairs, in her pajamas and socks, checking on all  
the kids.  Caliban's rolled up in a very tight ball, but he seems to  
be happy, at least.  One huge eye flicks open and blinks at her, then  
closes again, and an equally enormous hand pats her awkwardly on the  
shoulder before he drifts off.  Jimmy's quiet enough for her to let  
him be, and Theresa looks to have been enjoying herself earlier this  
evening.  A bunch of candles have burned down, and there's something  
suspiciously plastic-looking lurking in the shadows.  'Berto fell  
asleep with the lights on and something that might have been produced  
by Larry Flynt open in his lap.

She doesn't always check on Shatty.  He's awake far too often, and his  
reflexes are nearly a match for hers.  The first time he landed on  
her, he didn't immediately let her up.  Stared at her through silver  
eyes and waited for her to explain herself.  Smart boy, the cynicism  
monster mutters at the back of her mind.  He's the only one who's ever  
asked why she comes to everyone's door in the middle of the night.  

More often lately, she lays a hand on his door and tries to decide  
whether he's in trouble or not.  She'd let it go, except that she's a  
little too aware of how young he is, and how easily he slides into  
misery.  Doesn't like to be hugged, but sometimes he needs to talk,  
and as long as she sits still he'll use her as a sounding board and  
eventually work out the problem to his own satisfaction.  She  
remembers him laying a big hand on her shoulder once, afterwards, and  
looking like he was trying to decide what came next.  How vastly  
relieved he looked when she offered him a soldier's hand-clasp.

But he isn't, in any case, there.  Nor in the bathroom, when she  
checks, not, apparently, out.  She didn't think he would be; the world  
is a confusing place for Shatterstar, and he doesn't usually turn  
himself loose in it without a good reason.  The gym's empty, and the  
lights are off.

She wonders if she should wake Nathan up and inform him that one of  
their children is missing.  Snorts at the image of him waiting by the  
door for Shatty to come in, like a father from a 50s movie.  Brown  
slippers at all.  Possibly something large and Askani in the way of  
weaponry slung across his lap.

Doesn't ultimately get to make that decision because she bumps against  
Rictor's door in the meantime and gets an eyeful when it swings open.

She's seen them together before, of course, but not like this.  In  
combat, and out clubbing, and sprawled on the couch in front of the TV  
so tangled up that only their difference in skin tone tells them  
apart.  She doesn't think they were lovers, then.  If they were, and  
Nathan didn't tell her, she'll take his skin off.  But the brush of  
Julio's hand across Shatterstar's cheekbone looks a lot like something  
quite new, and still a little scary.  Maybe like he expected to get  
his hand bitten off.

Not at all like he expected it to get kissed.  Nor his fingers sucked,  
very gently, while silver eyes stare at him.  Shatty's hands own hands  
are a little hesitant, the way they always are when he does something  
he knows how to do intellectually but hasn't actually tried before.    
The curse of tube-fed learning, she supposes.  This is different than  
stripping and re-building a car engine, too; all the more so because  
Shatty can't read people for shit, and he has to know he runs the risk  
of losing several fingers or possibly his front teeth if he's wrong.

There's a long moment during which she thinks she's going to have to  
separate them.  Working out sexual tension is healthy, but the level  
of violence these two can generate could level the house.  

"Star . . ."

Softly, "Please, Julio.  When have I ever asked you for anything?"

"Are we counting the time you made me sit through fourteen hours of  
James Bond movies on TNT?"

"It was educational."

"I *really* don't wanna know how . . ."

Whatever Shatterstar says back, she doesn't hear it.  His lips are  
deep in the mess of Rictor's hair, nosing it out of the way.    
Somewhere in the midst of that movement, there's a kiss, and Ric leans  
into it, exposing his neck in a way that all his instincts must be  
screaming against.  She wonders if Shatty would offer him the same  
level of trust back.

The next kiss is a little steadier, and it's settle in much safer  
territory.  As long as they're mouth-to-mouth, neither one of them has  
the advantage, or maybe Rictor does since he's knee-crawled forward to  
straddle Shatty's thighs.  Sits on him, kisses downward with both  
hands in that mess of red hair, both of them bare-chested in the dark.

More quietly, in Spanish and lip-to-lip, "You don't tell *nobody*  
about this."

And Shatty only nods, and if he's a little hurt, she doesn't expect  
that Ric can see it in the dark.  Happy again almost instantly when  
the kiss gets deeper and Ric's hands go roving over the big body  
against his.  Rubbing groin to groin, still in sweats but Ric shimmies  
his hips like he could get out of them by will alone.  Accepts it  
completely when Shatty strips him and cradles his ass, strokes him  
from shoulder blade to knee in one long caress.

Absolutely willing when Shatterstar leans forward, easing Ric onto his  
back and coming to rest nearly on top of him.  Kneeling up just a  
little for control, and resting his weight on his hands while Ric  
holds his face and hips.  Long, pale legs around the man on top of  
him.  Ankles locked at the small of that fair-skinned back.

In a world of human probability, one of them would have seen her by  
now.  Even in the dark of hallway and bedroom, they're trained for  
this.  She should get out now.  They might work something out of this  
if Ric doesn't panic, and spotting her won't help them.  Ric can do  
this; there isn't anything unwilling in him.  Even now he's moving  
like a petted cat, naked and rubbing himself against the body over  
him.  Arching at every one of Shatty's careful touches.  Whimpering  
with Shatty's tongue down his throat.

In the instant she steps back, Shatterstar raises his head to her,  
then disguises the movement by kissing Rictor at the junction of neck  
and shoulder.  Reaches between them and grips Julio at least, and  
possibly himself as well.  Gives her only the faintest direct glance,  
and that only to tell her to *get out*.

She goes.  Doesn't close the door because the noise'll be obvious, and  
Shatterstar can get it later in the night if he's worried about the  
lack of privacy.  She's gone a dozen steps down the hall by the time  
the Spanish, "Mother of God, Star, yes!" drifts down to her.  More  
words in Cadre that she doesn't understand.  Loud breathing that  
softens as she moves farther away.

She's worried about what they may have taught these two.  Sam and Tab  
are a mess, and they had something like lives outside.  These two are  
in more danger.  Julio's made of glass sometimes, and his and Shatty's  
combined ages don't make forty.  For the moment, she can't think of  
anything to do for them but leave them alone in the dark.  Kick Nate  
if he tries to interfere.  

Maybe explain to Ric, very quietly, that he's allowed to do this.  And  
lock him up with Shatty until he gets it right.


End file.
